Could I ever forget?
by hopefullydreaming
Summary: They met when they were 16. They ended up falling in love. They were taken away from each other. What will happen when they find one another, 7 years later?


**A/N: Hello there. So this is my first fanfiction so don't be harsh on me! English isn't my first language so you know, typos will be there and I can already apologize for that. This story is a Quinn Fabray/Rachel Berry one but I'll also adapt it into Mitchie Torres/Alex Russo.. This is rated M because I can't seem to write anything without cursing. Sorry for such a long author note, I promise it'll get shorter when the story actually starts gaining its own life! Hope you enjoy!**

**Rachel's POV**

Life can be one boring thing and time taught me that mornings can be even worse. I just woke up from a terrible night. My stupid little boyfriend decided to come home at 4 in the morning and snorted the whole way until 7. I can't even say I woke up because honestly, I barely slept.

Sleeping was never one of the easiest things for me to do. Ever since I was a little girl, nightmares have been haunting me. They got better with time but I don't think I'll ever be able to say "I'm completely healed". Doctors said it would get worse if I let myself get stressed out. Bullshit. It's not like I can really control the way I get anxious over everything, right? Anyway.

These nightmares are not specific nor do they make the slightest bit of sense. It's like the demons inside my head decided to pick random details from my past and put them all together in a dream, making them look ridiculous but still being capable of scaring me like nothing else does.

I think about this every single time I have to get out of bed to take a shower and eat breakfast so I can start my day at work. My daily routine is interesting, to say the least. After getting ready, I get in my car and have to handle the exhausting traffic you find in New York City at 7:45. I don't really mind it because that makes time to catch up with some new tracks on the radio but my boss doesn't seem to like the way it sometimes makes me arrive late. I currently work for a well-known magazine called "Musically Safe". I don't know how the hell did they come up with this name but it suits the purpose. It basically shows people that music can be there for you when no one else is. Cheesy, I know. But if you take time to think about it, it's actually kind of true. I have to write a page for the magazine every week, talking about whatever I want. I mostly use that space to share some of my favorite lyrics. There's also always a part of the issue letting everyone know about the music that will be released that week. That's probably the most useful part about what I write. After working on my page during the morning, I have lunch. I usually eat by myself, except when I decide to catch up with some friend or when my boyfriend finally remembers I exist. My afternoons are filled with producing music. Not only do I produce my own music (because that is my number one passion!) but I love to help other artists out. It's always a pleasure and an honor to meet talented people such as these we have nowadays. Sometimes I work on this until it's is past 9 or 10 but today I got out of work earlier.

I can say this day had me exhausted but there's always some energy to do a little bit of shopping. Did I mention my boyfriend called me some minutes ago? He said he had to travel because of his work and that he wouldn't be home this week. Why am I not surprised? I'll see if shopping clears my mind. I can only hope.

After stopping by at Starbucks because I swear that cup of coffee tastes like heaven, I decided to go on a little trip to my past. When I was 15, I met this girl. She was my age and she had the face of an angel. Her voice was like music to my ears. I don't even mean her singing voice (because that one could fill my eyes with tears in less than a minute), but just hearing her talking made me feel better, it calmed me down. At first, we didn't like each other but as time went by, we got really close. Until we were 20. What happened in all of those years…only God knows. It's not like it's a secret but I've never liked to talk about it. I believe our story was one of the most beautiful things this world has ever witnessed… Yet it can also be classified as one of the saddest. But today, I feel like remembering her. Remembering those gorgeous hazel eyes that I loved so much. I'm going to go to the store we used to go together. I still don't think it has a name because it is apparently always changing its owner but it never lost its magic. It might not seem like a big deal for any of the people who aren't aware of all of the moments we've spent inside those walls. It's not like I care about what they think. Not anymore.

I'm not ready to enter that store yet, though. Maybe I'll just go see the clothes and shoes and everything the other stores have to offer for now. But I promised myself that after 7 years, today was going to be the day I'd finally be strong enough to open that damn door and remember all of the things we experienced there.

I guess I just entered a random store. I never do this. It doesn't really matter now. These colours are disturbing, really. I don't think I would buy half of the things they sell here. I'm glad people seem to disagree with me. I'm glad someone's eyes can find all of this pretty because that way, the owners can be happy with their work. Happiness: such a fine word. I'll talk about it later.

It's getting late, isn't it? I've been talking to myself for over 2 hours and I can't seem to be brave enough. Those voices start screaming inside of me, all over again. It really does feel like I'm back to being 16. The thing here is…I'm almost 27 and I'm not going to give up now. So as I'm walking to face that door, I have to mentally prepare myself. I have to be prepared for the thousand of memories that are going to cross my mind. It's okay. It will be okay. I am ready. I open that giant door, made out of glass and I feel it. I can feel the energy I've always felt when I walked through that door. There's only one thing missing: her hand holding mine.

I start exploring those halls and I feel like a child looking for my favorite toy. If I close my eyes, I can see her and my 16 year old self laughing. I can see us running, hiding behind these clothes and trying all of these incredible shoes. It hasn't changed. I find myself wondering if this is the only thing that hasn't changed since the last time we talked. I close my eyes once again. I can hear her voice. It's almost feels like she really is there. I feel an electrifying touch. My body shivers and I open my eyes.

"Rachel?", she says.

"Quinn?"

And with that, I feel my heart racing and for the first time in my life… I am speechless.

**A/N2: It just turned out this way, not sure if I like it! See you soon, hopefully.**


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